


Pimp and Pomposity

by Castiron



Category: Blackadder
Genre: M/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2006, recipient:Jo Z. Pierce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-25
Updated: 2006-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiron/pseuds/Castiron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Blackadder thought his day couldn't get any worse, Lord Flashheart knocked on the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pimp and Pomposity

**Author's Note:**

> My deepest thanks to my betas, Stacy and Jan. My sincerest apologies to Richard Curtis, Ben Elton, and the cast of the show. The line about the dawn slinking in was inspired by something I read, but I can't for the life of me remember what.

## Pimp and Pomposity

Written for: Jo Z. Pierce in the Yuletide 2006 Challenge

Blackadder staggered down the stairs into the kitchen. "God, what a day. I've had a worse day than the fellow who's the target at the All-County Cow Manure Catapult Contest."

Baldrick looked up from the bread he was kneading. "That's a pretty bad day, sir. And I should know."

"Why am I not surprised?" Blackadder collapsed into a chair. "It was off to a dismal start when I made the mistake of asking you exactly what you'd put into the omelets...."

"Old family recipe, sir. Every time me mum caught a rat...."

"...but went downhill from there when my employer, the Prince of Wales, noticed that he hasn't had voluntary intimate female companionship in at least six months. I had to sit through three hours of variants on his speech bemoaning the lack of women desperate enough to spend the night with him without being paid. By the time I finally saw him off to bed with a bottle of brandy and a collection of French woodcuts, I was almost anxious for this dismal chamber and your company."

"Why, thank you, sir!"

"Yes, Baldrick, you may be as much an idiot as the prince, but when I develop the urge to place a fast-moving fist against _your_ features, restraint is completely unnecessary."

A knock sounded at the door upstairs. Blackadder sighed. "The heralds of joy continue to play off-key. I shall now have to go convince some supplicant to go stuff themselves.

He climbed the stairs and entered the brightly lit hallway. Before he could open the door, however, it burst open. Lord Flashheart leapt in, with the annoying lighting effects that were his wont.

The heralds of joy, Blackadder thought, have wiped their noses with my trousers. "Ah, Lord Flashheart. I'm afraid the prince is not at home to visitors."

"Perfectly all right! I didn't come to see that German imbecile; I came to see you."

"Ah." Damn. "And what have you been doing since I was last so unfortunate as to experience your presence?"

Flashheart threw himself down on an upholstered bench. "Jealousy getting to you again, Slackbladder? Don't feel bad! No man can compare to me; you're just more inferior than most." He put his feet up on an expensive end table. "I've been visiting a country parson in Hampshire. His youngest daughter had just that day gotten engaged."

Blackadder sighed and sat down. "And?"

Flashheart smirked. "And after a night in my company, she broke it off. Told the bloke she'd rather live unmarried and write books the rest of her life." His eyebrows lowered. "Though all night she kept snickering and saying 'Mr. Thorpe' and 'Mr. Eliot'. But those are probably other laughable young men I've spoiled her for."

"I'm sure." Blackadder stood. "Well, Lord Flashheart, I mustn't keep you from your further conquests. Don't let me get between you and the door."

"Not so fast, Blackadder! I came here for help."

Blackadder raised his eyebrows. "You need _my_ help?"

"Hell, no, I don't _need_ your help! I just have to step out into the street and flex my chest muscles, and twenty young ladies will be tearing at each others' ribbons for the honor of bearing my bastards! But sometimes it's good to have the joint without trussing the roast, eh?"

Blackadder took a deep breath. "Let me see if I understand your metaphor correctly. You would like me to procure a woman for you."

"Spot on, old chap. Not just any woman, mind you. I'm looking for someone special and different."

"Say, one that would have the sense to take one look at you and retch?"

Flashheart laughed. "No such woman in the world! But I don't have time to search through the willing crowds, whereas you...."

"I'm afraid my duties with the Prince would prevent any such...."

"Blackadder, how much money did I lend you last March?"

"Er..."

"And when were you supposed to pay me back?"

"Well...."

"Now, I'm prepared to overlook this trifling debt, if you can find the woman I'm looking for. I'll be back tomorrow night to meet her."

"Tomorrow? But...."

"Plenty of time! Why, even you could find a woman in twenty-four hours!" Flashheart looked at him. "Or maybe not. But you can certainly find _me_ a woman. Goodnight, Slackbladder!"

Blackadder closed the door behind him, went downstairs, and collapsed into a chair, well away from where Baldrick was gutting a chicken. "So, Baldrick, it seems fate has plopped another pigeon dropping in my lap.

"Oh, Mr. B., don't fret. My mum always said that hot water was the best way to get those stains out."

"No, Baldrick, I am speaking metaphorically, a word that's only six syllables longer than words you understand. Lord Flashheart is in town and wishes me to set him up with a very special woman. And since I owe him seven thousand pounds, alas, I must assist him. Meanwhile, my employer also seeks amorous companionship and wishes me to set him up with...well, any tart would do as far as he's concerned, but I must think of my own reputation. I could never show my face at the annual Butler's Boozeup if they knew the Prince had slept with a woman who wasn't at least a gentleman's daughter."

"What are you going to do, Mr. B?"

"Fortunately, I have the perfect solution. Elizabeth, the daughter of my former employer, a clever and refined young woman of high birth. Also as randy as a deprived badger."

"I didn't know you had a former employer, Mr. B!"

Blackadder cleared his throat. "Well, it's not something I like to talk about, you understand. We parted in less than amicable circumstances."

Baldrick nodded knowingly as he tossed a chicken liver to the cat. "Gave you the sack, did he?"

"He did not 'give me the sack'. I resigned my position of my own free will, after he found me with one hand in his wife's jewel box and the other polishing her necklaces."

"I understand perfectly, sir. You know, I've never understood why so many high lords object to their butlers cleaning their jewels. Who do they expect to do the job, then?"

Blackadder started to reply, stopped, and said, "Never mind. I'm off to Lord Percy's first thing in the morning."

* * *

Lord Percy's butler showed Blackadder into the study with a minimum of snickering. Lord Percy glanced up from the papers he was shuffling. "Good to see you, Blackadder. Please sit down."

This was a more positive reception than Blackadder had expected. "How are you, sir?"

"Very well, thank you. I often thought about writing you and asking for your return, after my dear Miranda explained that you were merely adjusting the fit of her garments, but once I learned you were employed by the Prince I really couldn't ask you to take a lower position."

"Well, I admit that the pay is often better, but I find the prince to be no wiser a master than you were, sir."

"Why, that's very kind of you, Blackadder."

"Hardly at all, sir. And how is your darling daughter?"

Lord Percy's jaw dropped. "How did you know her married name?"

Blackadder in that moment knew the sensation of a man putting on his shoes and discovering a dead mouse in one of the toes. "Married?"

"Yes, she married a Mr. Darling just last year. Lovely ceremony. Wealthy man."

"Ah." Blackadder rose. "Will you excuse me for just a moment, sir?"

"Oh dear, Blackadder." Lord Percy looked perturbed. "Please don't step outside and shriek like a plundered maiden. It frightens the neighbors."

Blackadder sat back down. "I wouldn't dream of it, sir. And may I give you my most heartfelt congratulations on her marriage?"

"Why, thank you, Blackadder. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, nothing. Absolutely nothing. I only visited to see how you were surviving without me."

"Why, that's very kind indeed. You know, it's funny you say that, because ever since you left, somehow I always end up with extra money once the accounts are settled. I don't really understand it." Lord Percy grinned. "I suppose it's lucky for me that I fired you!"

Blackadder shifted his weight. "It's a fascinating coincidence, sir. But if you're so flush with funds, I wonder if I could trouble you for a loan? Say, of about seven thousand pounds?"

Lord Percy's smile broadened. "I'm afraid not. I just sank all my spare cash into a little investment in the Americas. Anything else?"

"I fear that is all, then. Good day, sir."

* * *

Unfortunately, no ships for Cathay were leaving that afternoon. Blackadder resigned himself to doom, disgrace, and a tedious evening in His Highness's company.

Prince George was again bemoaning his lack of love life, pacing and gesticulating like a pacing gesticulating idiot. "I can't imagine why none of these birds want to experience my manly musk. I'm rich, I'm good-looking, and I'm the prince, damn it!"

"Perhaps the problem is your intelligence, sir."

"That's it, Bladder! They're too intimidated to match wits with me!" The prince's face fell. "But dash it, that doesn't help me. I need a woman who's special. And different."

The cunning plan immediately formed. "Actually, Your Highness, there _is_ a young lady who strongly desires your company."

"Well, of course, Bladder. I am after all a royal."

Pause.

"You didn't care to complete that sentence, did you?"

"Pardon?"

"Never mind. This young lady has a rather...unusual preference."

"Well, hurrah! You know me, always ready to try anything. Huzzah!"

"She likes to dress up as a man."

"Well. Hmm. I'm not so sure about that, Bladder. You have one woman wear ruffles and lace and brocade, and then her friends will want to wear it too, and next thing you know people won't think it's masculine anymore."

"Shall I tell her that you aren't interested, then?"

"Oh, come now, I didn't say _that_. Might be rather amusing. Does she carry it off well?"

"The false mustache is especially effective."

"Goes for vermillion, eh?"

Blackadder rolled his eyes. "I believe you mean verisimilitude, sir."

"Vermillion, verisiwhatever, they're all the same. Well, then that's all settled then, right?"

"Almost. You see, she has another...unusual preference."

"She must be one unusual woman, eh, Bladder?"

"You might say that, sir. This second unusual preference is that she likes her partners to dress up as women."

Prince George cocked his head and thought; Blackadder could almost see the dusty brain cells attempting to activate. "Well, that would make sense and all. She dresses like a man, he dresses like a woman, eh, Bladder?"

"That is just the sort of logic that I would expect you to be occasionally capable of, Your Highness."

"Well, I suppose I can try it once. After all, I did dress like a woman at the autumn masquerade for the Naughty Hellfire Club. So, when is she ready to get the riding of her life?"

"Not so fast, sir. I'm afraid she has one more...unusual preference."

"Dear me, Bladder, how many unusual preferences can one woman have?"

"You would be surprised, sir. This unusual preference...I hardly dare mention it, sir."

"Oh, go on. How strange can it be?"

"She likes to strap a warm sausage about her hips and insert it into her partner's....ahem."

"Mouth? Sounds like a fun way to eat sausage to me. Bring her on! Tally-ho!"

"Not mouth, sir. The opposite orifice."

Prince George looked puzzled, and murmured, "The food goes in the mouth, and down, and rumbles about in the belly, and finally...." He looked up, horror-struck. "You don't mean...."

"I do."

"Well, I don't know about this. I haven't had anything shoved up there since the last time I forgot to pay my dues at the Naughty Hellfire Club." The Prince wrinkled his forehead in a way that would have signified thinking in anyone with more than ten brain cells. "Still, a sausage does sound more comfortable than an orange, eh, Bladder?"

"I surmise that the experience would be marginally more pleasant, sir."

The prince slapped his hand down. "Well, might as well try it once, eh, Bladder? When will she be here?"

"Tonight, Your Highness. I shall come at four to help you dress."

* * *

Blackadder sat back in his chair in the kitchen, sipped a glass of wine, and enjoyed the embrace of satisfaction. The prince had been dressed with a minimum of difficulty; Lord Flashheart had arrived on time, and judging by the speed with which Flashheart had swept the Prince into a spare bedroom and the length of time they had been in there, the event was a success. He was now effectively seven thousand pounds richer, and Prince George would hopefully shut up for a while.

Satisfaction kicked him out of her bed as the bell rang. Blackadder looked at the clock. Three hours, indeed? Truly a success.

He walked into the salon to find Prince George lounging on the chaise. "Well, sir?" Blackadder inquired as he filled a glass with brandy.

"Bladder, she was amazing! I've never had such a good time in my life! Not even when I spent the night at Mrs. Hamilton's House of Purring P...."

"Yes, yes, I recall the occasion. The young lady did suit, then?"

"Suit? I've asked her to marry me!"

Blackadder set down the brandy glass. "You did?"

"Yes, but she turned me down. Said it wouldn't be legal or some such rot. She must be a Catholic."

Blackadder handed him the brandy. "That is indeed a plausible explanation, sir."

"Ah, well. Funny, after hours playing with her sausage, I don't feel a bit tired...." The Prince downed the brandy and immediately passed out.

Blackadder smiled. A job well done, indeed. Now back downstairs for a quiet evening of peace, wine, and occasionally abusing Baldrick.

He exited into the hall and was immediately collared by Lord Flashheart.

"Blackadder, you amaze me. I ask you for a unique woman, and you give me a man in a dress."

Blackadder attempted to back toward the door. "Ah. Well, you see, I...."

"Took me in for the first hour, I admit, though I did think she was strangely small-chested. Fortunately for you, tonight was a revelation. I'm hereby giving up women."

Blackadder could not have been more surprised if the Goddess of Surprise had leapt out of a cake brandishing a hyena. "What?"

"Who'd have thought that being rogered would be so much fun? From now on, I'm turning my animal magnetism on men. I've worn out your male trollop, but I'm ready for more!"

"But...but....but you're a lord! Surely you need to at least have a child to inherit from you!"

"Ah, I have two hundred and ninety-seven bastards; I'll just legitimise one of them."

Blackadder considered whether he might escape by ripping himself out of his shirt, then reconsidered. "Well, I'm very happy for you...."

"You'll be more than happy!" Lord Flashheart dragged him down the hall to the spare bedroom. "When I'm through with you, you'll never want any other man OR woman again!"

Blackadder squawked.

* * *

Dawn snuck around the grating like a whipped cur, considered the kitchen, and settled in the corner with a sigh.

Baldrick barely glanced up from the turnips as Blackadder slowly limped in, feet wider apart than usual, face that of Socrates after learning that his cup of hemlock juice was actually goat piss. "Have a good night of it, then, sir?"

Blackadder staggered into a chair and didn't reply.

Baldrick said, "You must be wanting some breakfast, sir. I've got this delicious sausage...."

Blackadder shuddered. "No, thank you, Baldrick."

END


End file.
